As an actor, you just want to work, and then you just want to be

In the heartfelt and humble words of Jesse Tyler Ferguson, we hear both gratitude and duty woven into one: “As an actor, you just want to work, and then you just want to be on a show or have a job that you love, and you hope that job will last - those things have happened. To have that platform to then talk about something that is very personal to me like marriage equality, it feels like a gift. I try and really respect that voice and not abuse it.” These are not merely the reflections of a performer—they are the confessions of a soul that has been tested by fortune and found faithful. Ferguson speaks as one who has risen from dream to recognition, from uncertainty to purpose, and now seeks to honor the power that fame has placed in his hands.

For in every age, the wise have known that privilege is not possession—it is stewardship. To be given a platform, a voice, an audience, is to be entrusted with the hearts and hopes of many. Ferguson, who came to prominence through his role in Modern Family, recognizes that success is not a crown to be worn, but a torch to be carried. His fame, he says, is a gift, not a right. And the true measure of such a gift is how it is used—not for vanity or noise, but for truth and compassion. In his case, that truth is marriage equality—the belief that love between two people, regardless of gender, is as sacred as the dawn itself.

The origin of Ferguson’s words lies in his own life, a life that mirrors the struggles of countless others who have sought dignity in a world slow to give it. Born into a time when same-sex marriage was forbidden in much of the land, he rose to fame portraying Mitchell Pritchett—a character whose love story was itself a quiet revolution on television. Through laughter and warmth, Modern Family helped countless viewers see that love between men or between women is no less tender, no less human, no less divine. Thus, Ferguson’s platform became a bridge between art and truth, between entertainment and enlightenment.

Consider the tale of Harriet Beecher Stowe, the author of Uncle Tom’s Cabin. She too possessed a voice that reached beyond her station. Through her art, she awakened a nation’s conscience to the horrors of slavery. She did not seek fame, yet when fame came, she used it to serve justice. When President Lincoln met her, he said, “So you’re the little woman who wrote the book that started this great war.” Like Ferguson, Stowe respected her voice—she did not abuse it for self-glory, but turned it toward the light of moral purpose. From the artist’s pen to the actor’s stage, the principle remains eternal: to use one’s gifts not merely to entertain, but to uplift.

Ferguson’s humility is the mark of wisdom. He does not claim mastery over fate; he speaks as one who has been blessed by opportunity and burdened by responsibility. The ancients would have called such balance virtue: the harmony between gratitude and action. To recognize that one’s success can be a vessel for others’ freedom is the highest calling of fame. To speak for those who cannot, to humanize the misunderstood, to remind the world that love is not a privilege but a right—these are acts of quiet heroism, no less noble than those of warriors or kings.

His warning not to “abuse the voice” is also a lesson for all who possess influence, great or small. In an age where voices shout for attention and fame is often mistaken for wisdom, Ferguson’s restraint becomes its own form of strength. He reminds us that speech without empathy is noise, and that the truest power of words lies in their ability to heal, to unite, and to awaken compassion. Whether one commands millions or speaks to a single heart, the duty is the same: to honor the truth with integrity.

So let the lesson be this, O seekers of greatness: When life grants you a voice—through art, through success, through any gift—use it with reverence. Speak not to dominate, but to dignify. Build the kind of world that reflects your deepest convictions: one of equality, of openheartedness, of courage. Do not waste your influence on vanity or division, for every word you speak is a seed sown in the field of the future. Plant with care. Plant with love.

And remember, as Jesse Tyler Ferguson reminds us, to be heard is a blessing—but to be worthy of being heard is a responsibility. Whether your stage is vast or small, fill it with honesty. Use your gifts to lift others from the shadows. For when art serves truth, and truth serves love, the world itself becomes more humane, more luminous, more free.